Debt and Contention Affairs
by tanastarrylight
Summary: Mello tangled himself in the worst business at an illegal age. Now older, he wants to take his life back so he can give it away to his best friend Matt but the only way he can to this is by breaking his red head's heart and hurting himself by entertaining his fears. Rated M for violence, drug use, sex, and language.
1. Burden Talk

_this isn't anything important, it's just a small portion of violence and anger coming out through my favorite character's actions which of course are engraved on the walls in the caverns of my heart. at least, that's what i thought it was.. until i realized that this was only a hyperreality of my own consciousness, yeah that's right. this happened to me before, i think, but only as a real world incident, the one where authoritative figures called it "an overactive imagination raped by some unnecessary dream." yeah.. or something of the sort._

 _•••_

Mello. Everyone who came in contact with him _remembered_ him. With his blond hair tousled in all the right ways and leather clothing tight in every single way, his flat stare would cause anyone and everyone to immediately fall in love with him but sink to their knees in dreaded fear. The red rosary that hung from his neck was never taken off and it left marks on his skin. He thought that the longer he left it on, the deeper the marks and the deeper the marks, the more he felt like he was allowing something come in and warm his cold heart with love and safety. Maybe it was just the sketch glances he'd receive, the ones that grew his dignity, that caused him to feel that way but he knew he needed them still, his heart and emotions were nearing total freeze and in all honesty he had no want to keep on this track.

There was no downhill spiral for Matt, though. Calm, considerate; the boy who hated the brokenness in people. He needed to make sure that everyone of his classmates' tears quit falling and the shattered heart taped back together again. He seemed to be dubbed most regarding and protecting children at the house. At least, that's what his guardian had told him. He accepted it, because that was what every little boy did at the small age of five. But he questioned everything when he met the blond roulette of a boy. Matt's first instinct was to try and fix the boy, like every man's natural instinct when he comes across a dilemma in the road, but somehow, he knew he couldn't. And that was what caused him to entangle himself in the intrusive man's life; the mere fact that this man was the first problem he could not entirely fix. He let him drown him.

And that was the story of how Mello and Matt came to be the worst of compatible partners ever. They both behaved equally different but shared the same desires.

So, they fought. They screamed, yelled, kicked, hit, cried, bled; but they needed it. It seemed like every story told needed immense fire before refining. That was how they were kept superglued together, after the burning and the anger in their hearts was gone, they would build each other back up by roughly stitching their thoughts and their wants back together again. It is a rather beautiful story, actually, the two of them against every flaming arrow shot at them. It looked like the world was trying to tear them apart and while they naturally did that themselves, the blond and the red head would never allow themselves to separate. In their minds they grew a reality where if the other was missing, it wouldn't be real at all. They needed each other as much as beauty needed fire, as much as happiness needed its pain.

•••

 **Matt** \- It was one of those evenings, the type where the house seemed like it just couldn't keep the summer heat out of its walls. It nipped at the tip of Matt's nose as he breathed out a rather loud sigh, the remaining heat of the day was just piling around his face. He sweat it out. Laying across the dark colored sofa and wistfully looking over the living room, Matt took in the orange tint of the room. It seemed to sparkle in his face, taunt him in knowing the predicament he and his person fell into. Mello was gone, he wasn't coming home until the morning. And it scared Matt. He was scared for him, not for himself. He knew what was going on and the only thing he could find himself feeling was lust. The lust for the bastard's blood who think he can use Mello in any way he pleases. But Matt stayed home. Mello got himself into this trouble and as much as Matt loved him, he knew things would spin out of control for Mello then he would get himself into a bigger issue. Matt absolutely didn't want any of that.

After taking the last drag of his cigarette he angrily threw it on the floor, not minding it burning a hole into the multicolored rug. He tossed his head back and shielded his eyes from the bright sun. The LA summer evenings were too much for him, he'd rather be covered by the refreshing blue sunset England gave him. He pulled at his striped shirt, the sleeves being too long and kicked off his leather boots. Once he was fully laying on the sofa, he dizzied himself by watching the fan's blades dance in a formation that was still too slow. Huffing out a sigh, he was trying his hardest to get the images of last night out of his cloudy brain.

 _"Mell, I need you to calm do-"_

 _"How can I Matt? There's no other way to get out of this-"_

 _"Yes there is, we just gotta work harder with it-"_

 _"Damnit Matt, I can't have you stop me. Do you want this job done or-"_

 _"Mello! I will not allow this to happen to you, you already know-"_

 _"Matt! I know how this place is worked, how this disgusting man snakes himself between everyone, I don't want to loose you. Besides, you can't control me! You'll be in trouble too if you get involved and apparently once you're involved you can never get out." The look on his blond's face caused him to stop his words. Matt look at Mello and a pained expression was etched into his face. He sighed and looked down, a hand frustratingly detangling his red sweaty hair._

 _"No." was all he told his Mello, "I can't loose you. I will not and cannot let you do this." he was strewn, hard faced and not in the slightest willing to work it out with Mello. His chest fell up and down heavier and his eyebrows furrowed together. The blond was steaming and while Matt was aware, he would much rather have his best friend absolutely hate his guts then him be touched and hurt in the worst ways. Mello left to meet the owner of the club, still, and bet him for his life back._

He pushed himself deeper into the sofa, tears rimming his eyes. Matt didn't ever try to stop them from falling over his Mello and his pain, he wanted the blond back home, back home in his arms. It seemed like an impossible request but he would never stop praying for it until the hour Mello came back safely.

 **Mello** \- It seemed right, the owner taking Mello off the hook once he pays his dues but this, this was much different. Much riskier business. Of course the owner was a psychotic lunatic who was drunk and high of his rocker most all of the time. A girl and a boy were always on either side of him as if telling Mello that he was stronger than him and could instantly ruin his life for good.

It was funny because it seemed as if he already ruined Mello's countless of times but the blond was always strong enough to get it back just before breaking again.

"This is it, Neylon, I'm taking my money back and giving you all my burdens. There's no way you're keeping me here by force every again." The dirty haired man shook his head. His gold hair made Mello's heart skip a beat; it was engraved in his memory and seemed to trap him with a sense of PTSD fear.

"Oh Mello, I knew this would come, especially from the independent strong willed nature boy inside of you, but that's not possible." Mello's stomach leaped into his throat when he heard the all too familiar tone in the man's voice. Neylon leaned forward getting a better glimpes of a flustered Mello. Mello noted the stench of his voice and the crazed look kindled off of the music and hormones dressing every person's skin. It disgusted him. Mello feared every worst as he even took one step into the club; the scents and sounds were so violent he thought he'd catch every STD known to man just by taking a breath of the putrid air. Mello's light eyes studied Neylon's and he suddenly seemed to see right though him. So, Mello pulled a victorious smirk and leaned back in his chair. One of his legs was coiled into his chest, heel sat on top of the edge of the chair as his elbow rested on his knee.

"By the way your speaking," Mello began, "I'd assume you realize that you've already lost."

"What are you speaking about, boy?" Neylon's spiteful tone tried to cut Mello but the blond didn't accept it.

"You need me." That shut Neylon up, "That's right, you knew you were in trouble when you found out I wanted to leave this lifestyle with a trade and you realized you lost when I discovered that you needed me." By lack of a response from Jack, Mello knew he had already won. A small laugh escaped the young man's mouth.

"What do you say? Make the trade or keep on losing as long as you have me?" Neylon's eyes pierced a Mello's fair skin. Every ounce of the man wanted to rip the boy apart.

"On one condition," Neylon suggested a handful of seconds after Mello's proposition.

"Take the stage once more then you be free to get as far from me a possible."

The music around him muffled away and the drugged air was decaf in Mello's lungs. A heavy rock was suddenly rooted in his stomach and if Mello didn't leave the building soon, he knew he'd get sick everywhere. He looked to the floor. The neon lights, the darkness, slutty music, everything his nightmares consisted of laid before him and to remake his life, he'd have to willingly face his fears and enter it all again.

'"So what do you say?" Neylon smirked as he caught Mello up in a deeper situation. Neylon was fully aware of Mello's fears and anxieties. That was why he used them against Mello in pleasure for his own self.

What seemed to be an eternity of empty thoughts swirling around Mello's head, he tried to make his decision. If he chose to leave he'd have to dance, if he was bound to stay he'd have to dance. It was a loose-loose situation.

"How about this," his foggy head snapped up to Jack's voice so quickly he swore he gave himself whiplash, "if you don't get on the floor, I'd best you say goodbye to your boyfriend, there's some incentive for you." Mello's already anxious and broken frame was frozen. Matt. Neylon was threatening him with Matt. Now he knew he'd have to dance, if not tonight then every other night of his life. He couldn't let his best friend go just because of a small fear of his.

But no, this was no small fear. This was PTSD, it wasn't something legal. This was rape and Neylon's fantasies force-fed to Mello for the past seven years of his life. This was illegal and Neylon's punishment could be death if the authorities were to be involved. No, Mello realized, his punishment would be death on count of drug trafficking, illegal weapon possession, sexual assault on minors; the list went on in Mello's mind and suddenly, he had a plan.

"Fine." was all the blond said. A pregnant pause filled everyone who was sitting around the laminated table. An evil smirk pulled at Neylon which turned into a smile, which turned into laughing.

"Alrighty,"

"-ready up then."

 _-ready up then._

Mello heard the same voice and the same three words echo in his own mind at the same time Neylon spoke. He had that sentence down; with that tone, the queue was set. Two bigger men stood on either side of Mello and with a dizzy feeling, the petrified blond stood up and was lead back stage where he changed his clothing.

 _This is for Matt, this is for Matt, he will die if I don't go through with this._ Mello thought, whispered, to himself as his shaky hands pulled on gross clothing that had too many unknown substances on it. The two, presumably body guards, watched him to make sure he had nothing to make a weapon of before leading him out to the main stage.

 _This is for Matt, this is for Matt, this is for Matt..._

 _•••_

 _I hate the idea of doing this to my Mello but it's for the story so it will be over soon. I've had this idea circling around my mind for a long time but I've just now decided to put it on paper because I thought Light and L's characters weren't appropriate or rough enough for these roles so when Mello and Matt came to mind I pursued._

 _Definitely will be a shorter, short story, thing than Playing God so it will be updated and finished quicker. Leave comments, questions, reviews; I'd love feed back or propositions on where you think the story should go. ***** Disclaimer: I do hate when it's evident when a writer doesn't know where to lead the story but is still writing and updating anyway. I won't do that so do not worry about my story becoming shallow for that reason. If it does, though, then that means my idea wasn't the best and the story is just overrated and unneeded. _

_-Tana_


	2. Diamond's Blood

_i didn't think i would go this far, selling myself to a realm of unbelievers, it was odd and quite irrational for me, in fact. yet i pursued whole heartedly knowing that even if i challenged my own security, my confidence would never be shaken. i was thought, for a minute of that enduring grief in my heart, to wallow away in my own fear and self reliance but i knew no such thing would promise me a life better than the one i currently lived. nothing was worse off so why not take the chance to make it even but the slightest better? no positive outcome for my confidence withdraw and that i'd known fact of. so i pushed through my own mess in hopes to recollect the peace bond between me and my conscience, all the while knitting me closer to my confidence, even though i knew he wouldn't understand._

when Mello pays his dues and Matt is his confidence

 _•••_

His gloved hand took up the red plastic lighter that laid on the floor in front of the sofa and he immediately deeply grumbled. The wasted boy sat up from a leisure position on the shared sofa and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. It was eight. Eight in the evening and Matt presumed his love very late from the risky job he had to do that previous night. With a small sniffle, he tossed the empty flame canister, as his younger self might have called the odd device, to the tile floor and stood up. Recovering his balance, Matt stretched a bit before cleaning the emotional mess he'd made, one consisting of cigarette and drug butts, Mello's chocolate wrappers, and alcohol bottles. Once everything was in order, he opened the top drawer of he and Mello's dresser and under a string of black clothes, Mello's, he revealed their secret stash of weaponry. He readied a set of hand guns and a five inch long blade, assuming the pair of them had business to take care of once the blond came home. He noticed how dull the knife was and began sharpening it. Twenty minutes later, after realizing the knife could never be sharper, he tossed it back to the table before falling back on the bed. His eyelashes fluttered like hummingbird wings, uneasy about the hours to come.

This morning Mello never came home so this night Matt was determined to make sure he did. By eight forty five, Matt grew weary, not having something to do, so he took it upon himself and pulled his phone out. He dialed a specific number but to his loss, the monotony answering machine greeted him. That meant he would have to take it upon himself; make his own set of orders to follow.

The red head sat up swiftly, not minding the whiplash, his drugs not sobered up completely yet, and took all the weaponry and devices he prepared. Once ready, he took one last glance around the silent hotel room and closed the door gently. It seemed inappropriate to kill the stillness in the room, as if he knew a sudden change in its wind was about to happen but he was stalling it off as much as he could.

Finally, in the car he was and he drifted into town. Nearing the block of which he'd feel too many recurring memories, Matt huffed a sigh of fear but shook his head to block it. It made him put more pressure on the accelerator. Once he arrived at the club he knew all too well, the young man paused for a moment and closed his eyes. He knew the business he was throwing himself head first in, although Mello didn't think he was aware. Which was partially true, Matt _never_ experienced this scene the way Mello did, even though the boy slightly wishes their roles were switched. It was uncomfortable to see Mello so nervous, so unfocused. It was rare, in fact, Matt determined that this was the only time he'd seen his best friend quiver in such fear and yes, he wished to take him out of it but he couldn't. That was a job only Mello could do and he was probably doing it now, but there was no law that Matt couldn't help his blond get through it.

So, with gun in hand and heart on sleeve, Matt snuck himself into the building where he was determined to change Mello's life for good, even though the blond was convinced that that could never happen.

•••

Sweat stung him across his hairline. It was the least of his concerns, and he was well aware of that, but it would relieve some of the bearing pressure if the temperature in the room was lowered by only a fraction. Well, he hoped for that to be the cause of his sudden fever, the temperature in the room, even though he was all too well familiar with the hormones and emotions that were really the cause of the hot flash. Emotions filled with self contempt and a promise to bite in the morning, yes those. The blond's mind swarmed, trying to get itself off of the problem at hand but he knew it would only be distracting. This was something that had to be done. It was the only way he'd get himself out of this puzzle fit for a life of selfishness and disgusting decisions.

Upon entering the room from backstage, he was blinded by a fluorescent pink light shone from a man much taller than he was, which was quite rare so the blond was caught off guard.

"Mello, here we are." he knew who it was. Mello pretended to not know who it was, though. He sluggishly drew a hand up to block the glare in his eye but his wrist was caught and with a gasp the young man was torn away from the club's main quarters causing the grumbles and complains from many disgusting people who wished the blond would stay and dance for them. The worries of the floor left Mello's mind as he was stumbled into a room of which doors were quickly bolted shut.

 _Shit_.

"Neylon, I'm not one for-"

"Quit it, you agreed before the roulette now its time to take your word, you being a man of integrity and all." Mello's face dropped and with a gulp his insides started screaming.

And he knew that feeling would stay for the next few hours. He fumbled his fingers around each other, thinking of the red head probably still laying on the sofa, drugged up and in tears. He secretly wished he would come and save him but in the forefront of his mind, he decided that this was the ransom for his actions he must pay. The guilt punched him in the stomach, so hard he nearly groaned as he touched the top button on his shirt.

"Stop with the hesitation business and get to it." Mello smirked and turned around from Neylon presuming to roll his eyes.

"Don't rush fun, you knew how _good_ I was at my job." Neylon grumbled in aggravation from Mello's comment which caused the blond to only smirk again. He sucked in a breath as he felt himself reveal his shoulders, slipping the shirt off completely. Then, hands much too big for his preference, touched his shoulders and fell down his biceps.

"Hey, you said I had to only-"

"Well I changed it."

"Then I'll best be allowed to take my sweet precious ti-" a gun was lifted to Mello's head. Of course, Neylon's right hand man always ready to take action. Mello gulped and was about to cry. Guns didn't scare him, he's had dozens pointed at him and ready to fire, in fact, he loved them. So why was he scared and crying? He wanted to be home. He wanted to be back with his Matt, safe in some hotel room away from the people out to get them because of their possessions.

"No you won't, you play by my rules or you'll never leave again." way to be blunt. Mello whined in his brain which came out of his mouth as well only he wasn't aware of it.

"Get to it, now." suddenly Neylon's voice sounded cheery and posh and it gave Mello more fear and frustration. The fluffy scarf around his neck was slowly pulled off, which to Neylon appeared as teasing when Mello meant it for hesitation. He threw the fabric to the floor and bit his bottom lip as his fingers slowly fell down his stomach and to the hem of his skin tight black pants.

" _Mello_ , what are you doing in here?" His attention snapped up to the font door, Rod Ross. _Yes!_ Mello's mind screamed, he was saved.

"Ross, what's the meaning of this?" Neylon bellows as the man who held the gun to Mello's head quickly turned it towards Ross.

"Neylon! What have we gone over a hundred times? The actors stay on the floor until two, at closing they are confined to their quarters and not allowed into interact with employee through this time!" Ross yells. There was a certain tone in his voice that made Mello feel safe. Not safe, but certainly not in immediate danger unlike Neylon who constantly put him in it. Then, while he was distracted, Mello took this moment to act and he grabbed Neylon's guard by the face and ripped him down backwards, excavating a knee into the back of his head. The man cried out and Mello took hold of the gun, shooting the man in the thigh and proceeding to point it at Neylon.

"Mello! What are you doing?" Neylon screams. Mello's anger suddenly flares and his confidence was restored, despite the fact his shirt and rosary were lost in the room and his pants undone and pulled down a bit too much; his underwear mostly seen at the top.

"Neylon, you need to stop your actions in this establishment or else I'll get you fired and tracked by my mob, get out of this room!" Ross sheiks. Neylon yells in anger and leaves dramatically, causing Mello's mind to ease. The blond then noticed how badly his hands and arms, whole body was shaking, and his eyes softened, the deadly look stabbing at his eyes turned into shock then fear, he slowly lowered the weapon and upon looking into Ross' eyes, he mumbled a few words.

"I need Matt."

"Mello, come on, you're going back to your place backstage, to get ready again. I'm sorry Neylon tried you aga-"

"No! Goddammit I said I needed Matt and there's no way I'm going back to that hellhole of a room, I'm settling my business for the night and leaving once and for all!" his tone was sharp and ordering. Ross and huffed in anger.

"Mello, no, come on." he grabbed the young man's hand and Mello gasped in pain as he was dragged out of the room. Then, he heared the sound of screams and tables turning. A few gun shots ring in his ears as well.

Could it be?

A fluctuating amount of people ran in different directions causing Mello to miss the central area of the gunfire. Ross then entered the room, his handgun drawn in preparation of who was raiding his club.

"Mello!" the blond's eyes widened and his heart stopped beating.

 _Matt_.

The fluorescent lights still flickered and the deepest unwavering melodies of stripper music vibrating the walls, it was uncomfortable for this situation but Mello tried to pay no mind to it. That was when he saw Neylon. He shouted something to his men, something Mello couldn't make out, and caused a couple of them to run for something valuable, he assumed. The rest stayed behind and protected Neylon, ready to fight against the man who shot one of their members. It was Matt, Mello smirked at the thought. Matt _was_ here and he _did_ come to save him.

Everything happened so quickly after Mello heard the first gunshots, Neylon arranged his men, Ross pulled his weapon out, Matt stormed into the room shooting Neylon's men down, coincidentally taking Ross' leg out too. Which Mello knew wasn't an accident, if it were, Ross would be dead instead of extremely threatened. Mello ran up to his friend and with the gun, from Neylon's right hand man, in hand waved it in front of the red head's face telling him off about his so called "plan."

"Damnit Matt! Why are you here? You always gotta tangle yourself in my issues that I can settle by myself. You're going to get hurt, even killed for it one day, and that's not okay!"

"And you didn't need me at a time like this? Look at you! You're half undressed, your hair's tousled, and your cheeks are flushed pink just as they typically are after you co-"

"Fucking hell." the blond cuts Matt off by grabbing his arm and sprinting him out of the room and for the door. On the way out of the place, however, Mello jumped on top of the table he and Neylon played at just hours before and grabbed the bag of diamonds he was supposed to have in the first place. He hopped off and made a run for where Matt stood patiently waiting for him, gun ready, but gasped wide eyed as he saw Neylon come from behind Matt in attempts to kill him.

"Matt!" Mello screams in fear and just as Matt turns around to point the gun at Neylon, the man plucks a knife from Matt's back pocket and tears it across Matt's skin. Matt gasps and falls away from the slash.

"Nylon falls to the floor then rolls out to a ready spiderman like position. Seizing the position, Mello, in the awkward sprinting state he was in and with the raging feeling of madness gushing through his brain, leaps onto Neylon's back, takes the barrel of the gun and racks it into Neylon's face. The man yells out in pain as Mello falls to the ground. He crawls his way to his Matt. Hot blood came from his deep wound thickly on his face and the blond's eyes shrunk in pure and jealous anger.

Mello was _pissed_.

With Matt's blood on his hands, Mello stood up, turned around to face a heavy breathing Neylon who was ready to fight, and single handedly pointed the gun straight at the man. Mello's chest heaved, his fist tightened in a knot, and his heart pumped the darkest blood full of rage and lust for the blood of the man standing before him.

"What the _hell_ are you trying to do, Mello?! I thought our agreement was set and fulfilled!"

"Shut the fuck up, Neylon! No, it wasn't and it never will be. I'm doing what I've been waiting to do my entire time of knowing such a disgrace to humanity. You've messed with me far too long and now, after touching _my_ Matt, you're paying. _No_ _one_ touches him." Mello screamed at the top of his lungs and shot Neylon straight between the eyes. He pulled the trigger many more times, all over the already dead man's body. Neylon falls to the ground with a blood curling bang, causing the whole room to grow silent and thick with suspense.

•••

 _chapter two is up, yay. just to let you guys know, the beginning of the chapters are all thoughts from me not Mello, lol. they're real life thoughts and issues i've dealt with and have done, this story just represents a piece of my life that i've lived through but in a much more dramatic way._

 _i hope you love this overly graphic story full of blood and anger, lol, uncomfortable._

 _-tana_


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